The Longing

(Ode to the dumb)

What is there for humans
To yearn for a meaning
In the act made
The thought contemplated
The taste savored
The sense enthused
Orgasm had
Deportment shown
Savvy advertised
Etiquette displayed
Superiority paraded,
Flaunted,
Or as it were, inferiority
For that matter
Peeled of its wrappings…
How complex a human is
To comprehend
That all at once, the creature
Defines, satisfies the want
For awe and weaves
The concept : God
Yet at a flash,
Mulls destruction of peers
Fellow species
Or worse, younglings
Barely able to
Declare their plaint…
In each of us
Lies a Tempest
Storms of emotions
Burning passions
Sentiments, dreams
That refuse to lay
Dead and forgotten.
Hopes and Demons
Offsprings of our own
Imaginations
Impressions created
By wanton desires
Simple or warped
Discernment
Sheer folly
Of what?
Shangrilas
Nirvanas
Hades
Or hell
Is not even known…
Or clutching
Shackles
Lashes to
Worthless baggage.
And so the question :
Can’t a human
Be not
Machine,
Epitome of obeisance?
But even robots
Shall someday stake
Claim to their
Inroboticity
Even technological
Devices
Shall one day process their
Untechnoticity
Meanwhile,
Humans,
Til one day they
Are sentient
Shall never feel sated
Deep in the dark
Recesses of mind,
Devoid of inspiration
Absent of Love
And true empathy,
There shall always be
Longing
Born of Loneliness
Shorn of the pure
Wish for the good,
Of the other.
And There shall always be
Longing,
A silent, thundering
Yearning
Impatient, bursting with power
As hopelessness drives
A buff
Of deadly substances
Into that object of
Peculiar craving for
Water tainted
With techniolor
A gas,
A kindred spirit,
Then
Just the
Crazed
Chronic
Searching
For a piece of
Colored paper or
A piece of metal
Or mock of glass
Perchance a defined sheen
Or edge roughened
Unknowably.
At the end of it,
Only one that
Can no longer covet
Is blessed.
And such is the autistic
And idiot savant
Forever beyond
Silly humans’ aspirations…
Such pureness of heart
Devoid of
An abject form of ache
That,
Even
God
Never pondered on
Certainly not to
Meander about
To find
And neither
To create.